


Casino Royale

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Spy vs Spy [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Assassin Stiles Stilinski, Assassins & Hitmen, Charity Auctions, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Exhibitionism, M/M, Oral Sex, Sciles, Spies & Secret Agents, Spy Scott McCall, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flashdrive full of dangerous secrets is being auctioned off at the West Coast's premiere charity gala and the Scott is on a mission to retrieve it at any cost. He has ended things with Stiles and struggles to return to his persona as the Wolf, a deadly spy for Haletech Security. Unfortunately for him, somewhere in the crowd of expensive gowns and glittering jewels is an assassin lying in wait. Stiles might not recognize his best friend behind the mask, but he knows this Wolf and he's saved a dance for the devil.</p>
<p>Or, that Sciles Spy AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casino Royale

The Hope Gala was a shining jewel box where that no one looked too closely at the donations that were given to a charity without a name. What mattered was being seen among the glitz and glamour of the finest the West Coast had to offer. It was the prettiest shark tank around with every smile holding too many teeth and every look a challenge. The Wolf was at home.

In a bespoke suit that cost more than Scott McCall’s annual rent and a pair of matching Italian leather gloves, he was dressed to kill. A sleek canine mask etched in silver and bronze covered his entire face, leaving only his dark eyes visible. Somewhere in the crowd was a Hunter, and Scott was ready to play their death match out in a gilded cage. For now, he sipped champagne and sharpened his smile, laughing along with the youngest CEO in Japan. She liked his hand on her waist.

Across the room, hidden behind a crystal domino adorned with a golden swan, Erica Reyes was making her rounds. There were two handsome gentlemen at her back who carried their weapons with far less subtlety than Scott. He downed his drink before excusing himself and picked up two more on his way. Only he was cut off by an annoyingly familiar figure in grey.

“Excuse me,” The brunette said, winking behind the ornate mask of a bright red fox as he gave Erica an unapologetic once-over. “But this party’s just gotten a lot more interesting.”

The Wolf could have howled. He made his way to the pair’s side, all smiles and worried concern before intruding. “I’m sorry, miss, is my husband bothering you? I think he’s had too much to drink.”

Killshot went stiff under his touch, nerves prickling in warning, but there were too many people to pull his weapon. Scott drew him deftly away from the woman who watched after them curiously as they disappeared unto the dance floor. It wasn’t until they were out of earshot that Stiles twisted in Scott’s arms. He yanked out a sharp knife hidden in his waistband and pressing the tip against his captive’s stomach. “You’ve got the wrong guy, buddy.”

“I don’t think so.” The Wolf’s elaborate mask threw him for a beat, but the dark, empty eyes beneath sent a sudden chill of recognition down his spine. So much for staying on his toes, he’d been spotted minutes after he’d walked through the door. Stiles might hesitate to kill someone so publicly, but he knew the Wolf didn’t have any of those same reservations.

“Oh  _damn_.”

Those soulless eyes sparked with humor, laugh muffled behind a predator’s fangs as the Wolf brought his fingers to his mask’s lips before tracing the tips of his gloves down the side of Stiles’s neck. Leather brushed Stiles’s pulse, soft and warm, hiding the promise of the razor sharp claws. He twisted the knife deeper in warning as the Wolf’s hand curved gently around his ear, brushing back the fine hairs before deftly plucking the small earpiece free. The Wolf dropped it to the floor and crushed it under the heel of his shiny Italian leather shoes.

Stiles couldn’t see his enemy’s face, but he could tell the Wolf was smiling.

“There now.” The Wolf purred, ignoring the threat of the blade locked between them. “That’s so much better. I didn’t want anyone to be able to interrupt us, this dance is just for you and me alone.”

“I’m flattered. I should’ve gotten my rabies shots sooner.” Killshot sneered, raising his chin almost defiantly as he was dragged unto the dance floor. They fit together seamlessly, with deadly grace and pointed smiles. “Guess I’m gonna have to take your head to be safe.”

“Who’d have thought Killshot was such a killjoy?” The Wolf chuckled, his hands sliding down the long curve of the assassin’s back. His fingers grazed over the handle of a gun, and with practiced ease, he slipped it out of the Hunter’s holster and dropped it into a potted plant as they danced past. Then in one, swift movement, the Wolf was shoved against a marble pillar hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and jostle his aching shoulder.

“Just for you,  _sweetheart_.” Stiles hissed through gritted teeth, closing the distance between him with his blade. The Wolf parried the blow, knocking the knife out of his hands. It clattered to the ground.

“You’re going to have to try better than that.” He mocked, eyes tracing down the sharp curves of the crimson fox like he could already see the man hiding underneath. “I’d hate for your last mission to be boring.”

Killshot snarled, and in one, swift movement yanked his opponent forward. He kicked out at the Wolf’s knees, forcing him off balance before dropping him in a dramatic dip, bending him over his arm for the floor to see.

Scott laughed, absolutely delighted. It wasn’t often that he found anyone who could keep up with him. He was never allowed much of a chance to play, at least not since he and Theo had stopped working together. The Chimera stoked the excitement, dragging him into risks just to get off on the high but Scott had been avoiding his partner for the past year. There was something thrilling about dancing with the devil again, though the Wolf was planning on eating this little upstart fox. By the end of the night, only one of them was going to walk away and he was the bigger predator.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun with him first.

His body language shifted as Stiles swing him back to his feet, wrapping his arms around Killshot’s neck. It was a seduction, sex as deadly a weapon as anything else in his arsenal. Killshot might be one of the best marksmen in the business, but Scott worked the best when he was up close in personal. No one could best him in close quarters combat, but not every fight meant using his claws.

He fit his hips against his target’s, teasing and goading as he swayed with the music. Gloved fingers danced along Stiles’s nape. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to hunt me. I must say, I’m surprised to see you. I figured you’d have been scattered in a thousand little chunks all across the downtown by now. I don’t usually miss a target.”

“Guess you’re not as good as you thought you were.” Stiles spat, too controlled to let the rage show in his movements as they slowly danced through the crowed of rich and powerful. He was being guided towards the edge of the dance floor, and Stiles couldn’t quite focus on how worried he ought to be.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret.” The Wolf laughed, dragging smooth leather down the curve of his prey’s jaw. Their eyes locked behind their masks, and Stiles hated the way his body trembled when the Wolf ground against him just so, fitting so easily between his legs like he’d been built for Stiles. “I’m not trying to kill you.”

He dragged Stiles into a searing kiss, pulling his mask up just enough that he could lick his way into his mouth with filthy intent. He was going to devour his little fox just like this, deliciously scandalous in a crowded hall, and Stiles let out a choked little moan, quivering down to the tip of his toes and hating himself for it. The Wolf squeezed his cock through his pants, stealing his curse straight off his tongue before he pressed the assassin almost too gently into a quiet corner of the room.

Stiles panted for air, shaking with want and reckless  _anger_  as the Wolf ran careful hands along his body before slipping his mask back into place.

“You’re not worth the effort.”

A silvery chime played through the hall, and as one, the guests started towards the auction room. The Wolf turned with a final wink, popping open the top button on Stiles’s dress shirt before he disappeared into the crowd.

Killshot  _snarled_ , but when he tried to pull away, he was jerked backwards. Ripping fabric sounded almost too loud, and Stiles turned in horror to find his sleeve pinned to the wall with a dagger not unlike the one he’d threatened the Wolf with.

That  _asshole._

By the time he managed to free himself, everyone had already filed into the gallery for the auction, taking their seats in the grand hall. The money was supposed to go to charity, though more likely it would line the pockets of those behind the event tonight. What better way to hide the flashdrive than in plain sight. There was no sign of the Wolf, but Stiles could feel his eyes on him from somewhere and he hated the way he could still feel the other man on his lips.

There was a beautiful, gentle man out there tonight, head buried in a book and no doubt cursing his bad luck to be stuck in the library all alone. A man that Stiles knew he didn’t deserve. Scott was everything good that he’d given up for this job and Stiles wasn’t supposed to be swapping spit with the enemy. He _definitely_  wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it. Stiles reached up behind the fox mask and scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand, even if he knew it made him look like a petulant child. The sooner he got what he came for and blasted the Wolf’s brains across the walls like a modern art painting, the sooner he could get back to Scott and make this up to him.

The auctioneer brought out priceless items, jewels, and artwork donated to the event, but there was no way to tell which one belonged to Erica. There had to be some sort of clue. Stiles fumed, slouching lower in his chair as he watched the beautiful blonde for any sign that could tip her hand.

It wasn’t until the small ornate golden music box was placed on the auction block that Erica seemed to take notice. When the smug, infuriating voice spoke from the back of the hall, Stiles knew he’d found it.

“$50,000.”

There was a fat cat in fancy bib to his right. In one deft movement, Killshot jabbed him in the throat, knocking him out. He kept an arm around the civie’s shoulder, letting him gurgle his way into unconsciousness as he stole his placard to wave in the air. “$75,000.″

“$80k.” The Wolf cut in just as smoothly, and Stiles turned over his shoulder to glower at him, but he couldn’t spot the spy anywhere. In the time he turned, someone bumped the price up to an even million.

“1.25 million,” Killshot said, raising his stolen placard and sliding out of his seat milliseconds after he was acknowledged. The Wolf piped up from across the room. Killshot followed his voice, trying to get a glimpse of its owner. This had gone on long enough. This was where it ended.

Even without his counter bid, the price shot up. It became abundantly clear that they weren’t just fighting each other. Argent had given Killshot a pretty healthy bank account to play with, but Erica was looking to make a sale to one that was two seconds from bursting. His only consolation was that the Wolf wasn’t keeping up either, then he heard that vexing voice announce, “2.5 million!” 

Stiles rushed the rest of the way, elbowing out guests who wouldn’t move fast enough, but when he reached the source, all he found was an unconscious man in an expensive tux, and a microphone in his lap. 

“Fucker,” Killshot hissed. There was static on the line, before an infuriating chuckle answered him. Then there was nothing. Killshot happily crunched it beneath his shoe.

It became very clear very soon that he was going to need another way to get his hands on that box. He left the drooling victim, dropping his number plate on his lap. Stiles could only hope that the info Allison had prepped him with was accurate because he was going in blind, and the Wolf was already a step ahead of him. As he slipped out of the hall, one final announcement chased him.

“Sold, for 5.3 million dollars!”

Hunky fucking dory.

There were too many obstacles to go backstage, especially while the auction was still ongoing, but the Wolf meant to turn that into an advantage. All eyes were on stage. That meant there were going to be a lot less of them focused on the storage rooms where the auctioned goods were kept while their owners enjoyed the party. He planned on being in and out long before the last item was brought to the stage. Alas, he was going to have to leave a yipping fox at his heels. Though the Wolf suspected Killshot was still wasting his time, throwing money at the stage.

Scott didn’t want to think about how good the chase felt or how comfortable it was to slip back into the Wolf’s skin. He was a monster, there wasn’t room for any more doubt. He’d had his fun with Stiles and the fragile little lies they’d built together, but it was time to get back to work. It should have been easier, regret was an ugly new friend. The only way to sever the bond so completely he’d never be able to drag himself back to Stiles’s door was to ruin himself. No more finding creative ways to complete his missions without killing and no more sparing the innocents he could. He was a killer, the little fox’s blood between his fingers would remind him of what he really was. The only way to accept this was to kill the part of him that was Scott McCall.

The back hallways were dark and only a locked door stood between him and the treasures from the auction that had been carefully tagged for their new owners. Someone else must be after the information on the flashdrive, they must know that it was hidden in the music box or the bidding would never have gone so high. It was worrying, the Wolf’s paranoia notching higher. They knew something about the drive that he didn’t. He was the Alpha’s right hand, why would Peter keep something like this from him?

He ran his fingers across the keyboard and snorted softly. The charity auction was just a cover for Erica’s deal, they were clueless about the hidden drive or they’d have more than this single electronic lock on the door. Scott knelt and pulled a few slivers of metal from the hidden slot in his shoe, plugging them into the lock. The de-scrambler gave a soft flash, lights on the lock blinking in sequence as it broke through the code numbers one by one. In less than 30 seconds, the lock clicked open and Scott slipped the slim piece of tech away.

What should’ve been a clean getaway was interrupted when the Wolf caught the glimpse of a shadow reflecting off of the electric lock’s monitor. He ducked, just in time to avoid a bullet through the skull. It would’ve ended his life instantly. Killshot lived up to his reputation.  _Good._

The Wolf fell into a crouch, sliding a pen out of his inner coat pocket. It flew out of his hand, knocking the gun out of Killshot’s grasp and sending a pulse of electricity down his arm. The assassin spat obscenities as he withdrew, but he didn’t have a chance to get far. The Wolf lunged at him, claws cutting through expensive leather. They hid Scott’s damaged hands and gave strength to his aching bones. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to fight through an injury, but that was okay. He was going to hurt Killshot a lot worse.

They collided with the clink of metal, Killshot parrying with his gun barrel and pointedly aware of how sharp those claws were. He was quick on his feet and twice as daring, exactly what you needed in a dance partner. Scott pressed his advantage, but Killshot never let him get too close, trying to put more distance between them.

“Starting the fun without me?” Killshot sneered, ducking out of Scott’s grasp. He pivoted on his heel, just managing to keep from crashing into the wall.

“You know what they say.” Scott hissed, rounding on his opponent. He feigned left, forcing Killshot to mimic him only to pull back just in time to land a kick that sent him sprawling into the storage room door. “Too much fun’ll kill you.”

Killshot pushed himself to his feet with a snarl. Then without warning, he ducked into room. With a sharp hiss, the Wolf realized what he was doing and ran after him, only to crash into the door.

The Wolf picked himself up, a dangerous smile curved beneath his mask. This was almost fun, there were parts of this that he could admit he missed. Adrenaline coursed through him, every nerve strung tight with anticipation and the threat of death. He  _loved_  it. A swift kick sent the storeroom door splintering from its hinges and the Wolf rolled to the side, anticipating the shot before it came. He had to close the distance between them in order to strike, Killshot’s skills lay in his weapons. Disable those and the assassin would be all but helpless.

The shriek of an alarm cut through the air and Scott muttered a string of curses at his own mistake. Reckless, he knew better than this. Scott made a dive for the music box and plucked it from its place on one of the display tables, but Stiles wasn’t letting go without a fight. Scott grunted as Killshot’s weight connected solidly with his midsection, sending them both sprawling and the little golden box skittering across the floor. They grappled as the Wolf tried to twist the gun from the assassin’s hand before Killshot could bring the barrel between his eyes, while Killshot struggled to keep the Wolf’s claws away from his neck.

“Why won’t you just  _die_?” Stiles rasped, every breath harsh under his mask. The Wolf laughed, disturbingly warm and full of humor like this was all a game and he was enjoying every minute.

“Hey!” A guard appeared in the broken doorway and drew his weapon, sending Scott and Stiles scrambling for cover. These weren’t event security, not with weapons like those. It must be Erica Reyes’s personal team, Scott thought sourly as he leaned out behind the cover of an overturned table to snag the music box and slip it into his pocket.

“I told you I wanted a private dance tonight.” He called out to the assassin crouched behind a heavy chair.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have tripped the alarm, you asshole!”

A bullet splintered the top of their table, making them both flinch. The Wolf could hear their targets closing in. They were outnumbered, five to two, and one of their opponents looked thick enough to replace a wall. Erica had shelled out real cash for their services and got her money’s worth. Scott could read ex-military in their movements, and they’d been working together long enough to be able to effectively cover their blind spots.

He caught Killshot’s eye across the way, and gave the slightest of nods.

“Try to keep up, Killjoy.”

“You now damn well that’s not my name!”

They moved as one. Killshot rolled out of their cover and took his shot. The sprinkler overhead blasted open, drenching them instantly. The distraction was all the Wolf needed. He picked up the table and lunged forward, using it as a battering ram, to knock down the two closest guards. He looked up just in time to watch an enemy get a bullet to the skull, just inches away from Scott, his entire body lurching back as he dropped to the floor.

“ _Oops_ ,” the Hunter sneered. “I missed.”

Scott opened his mouth to retort, just as a smoke bomb went off, and thick, grey smoke flooded the room.

The guards were lost in a swirl of fog, the smoke billowing as people moved unseen around him. At least they weren’t be able to get a clean shot off like this either. Scott backed into something solid and twirled around with a snarl, claws stopping inches from the other man’s chest as he made out the orange and gold fox mask just in time. Slowly he pulled his hand back, finger to the wolf’s snarling muzzle as they pressed back-to-back and watched for any sign of their attackers. Their fight could wait until they could focus solely on each other, an unspoken truce binding them as allies.

A shadow passed in front of Scott and the Wolf struck, claws slicing thorough muscle and tendon to bring the big man down with a shriek of pain. Scott and Stiles both ducked as the remaining guards opened fire blindly. Killshot returned fire as the Wolf closed his eyes, tracking their movements through sound alone. Their footfalls were heavy, breathing ragged. He could almost taste their heartbeats in the air leading him to his prey.

It was like a switch had flipped in the spy, the humor and the banter gone in an instant and replaced with an empty, emotionless killer. Stiles could almost see the shift from man to monster and suppressed a small shudder. The beast that had single handedly killed eight professional Hunters was pressed beside him, working  _with_  him to survive and it was terrifying.

The Wolf gestured forward and they moved together like they had been training side by side for years, finding a shared and deadly rhythm only predators would know. Another dark shape huddled behind a packing box was an easy target and Stiles lined up his shot, missing the hulking guard that loomed up behind him. The Wolf disappeared from Stiles’s side and the large man went down before he had a chance to strike as Killshot lived up to his name.

“Now we’re even.”

Stiles smiled sourly and grunted as the final guard slammed his body into the assassin’s. He made a wild grab for the muzzle of the rifle, bullets spraying in every direction as the Wolf cut the man’s knees out from under him. Blood sprayed across the floor as the gun fell from the guards’ fingers.

The smoke began to settle, the riddled with bullet holes and the furniture smashed. Blood painted the walls as Stiles counted the bodies and stopped in surprise. Two dead and three still living. Killshot knew those kills were his, but now wasn’t the time for revelations. The gala’s security might have been slower, but they were bound to be on their way by now.

“ _Now,_  we’re even.” Killshot corrected. “And it’s been fun.”

In one quick motion, he stepped out of the room, slamming the butt of his gun into the electric lock.

“But not that much!”

The security system display let out a dying sound before initiating a complete lockdown. The Wolf had just enough time to jump away from the doorway before reinforced steel slammed over it, adding an extra barrier he’d need to get passed to escape the room. Lasers activated, criss-crossing across the room, freezing him in place. One of the unconscious guards just barely kept his head. The Wolf checked his pockets, only to find them one music box lighter.

“Huh.” Scott intoned, a small smile gracing his features. That little fox was full of surprises, but the Alpha was going to appreciate it when Scott delivered the head of the Hunters to his door. Everything was going according to plan.

A guard groaned, slowly shaking himself awake. The Wolf slammed his heel into his face to make sure he didn’t get anywhere.

Adrenaline burned through Stiles’s veins, and he was running on the sharpest high. Allison slapped his butt when he brought home the goods. Everything seemed so bright and so big, and his chest ached like it was being squeezed in two. He didn’t know if he liked it or not, but he banged open his front door and crooned, “Scottyyy!”

There was no answer. His apartment was exactly as he’d left it that morning, and it was past midnight. Something that tasted too much like dread settled in the pit of his belly. “Scott? Come on, dude, my spawn hammer’s up and crankin’.”

He checked the bedroom and the bathroom and the bedroom again, but there was no sign of his boyfriend anywhere.

Almost on cue, a phantom of the Wolf’s kiss brushed against his lips, and in that instant, Stiles hated himself. There had been no bigger thrill than fighting alongside his greatest competition. The nature of their work meant he and the Ghost so rarely shared the field, but Haletech’s spy was like nothing he’d ever known. Flirtatious and wickedly daring. He was a giant fucking douchenozzle. One who didn’t kill Stiles when he had the chance. Stiles shouldn’t have been worrying about him now. He wasn’t blind. He’d known there was something wrong with Scott, something that involved  _them_ , not the unhappy bruises he tried so hard to hide.

[To Scotty:] Hey it’s late just got home are you still at the library

[To Scotty:] Come home, dinner’s my treat

[To Scotty:] Scott

[To Scotty:] Pick up dude

Stiles stared at his screen, watching his phone tell him his messages were read, but no answer came.

[To Scotty:] I’m heading over there OK ill see you soon

[To Scotty:  _Unsent_ ] Please be there

It took a handheld laser cutter and an augmented electric pulse, but no cage could hold the Wolf. Across town and finally free from the Gala’s traps, Scott tried to ignore the way his phone hummed incessantly. He knew without looking who was on the other end, but it was over. Time to walk away from everything and close the door on this lie. He was the Wolf, for fuck’s sake! Tonight had proved it enough, he lived for the risk and the game. He’d danced with an assassin, outsmarted a Hunter, and planned on taking down their entire organization to present at Peter’s feet. That was the creature he was, everything else was holding him back. There was no going back to Stiles with blood on his hands and yet…he still hadn’t been able to kill. This block was starting to get in the way, Peter was right. He’d been so sure he’d lose himself to the Wolf tonight, but he still felt uncomfortably human.

The phone hummed again and Scott yanked it out of his pocket with a frustrated sigh. He’d spent his last night with Stiles, it was over. He needed to stop obsessing over this stupid mess he’d made and stay focused on the job. Scott couldn’t stop himself from unlocking the phone and scrolling through the messages with a half smile. It was harder than he thought to be able to let go. Fingers hovered over the screen with a thousand words he wanted to say, but he stuffed the phone back into his pocket before he crossed that line.

It was over, but he owed it to Stiles to tell him to his face. Disappearing was a coward’s way out and even if it took too long to admit it, Scott loved him. He _loved_  him. He glanced at his watch and yanked his backpack from where he’d stashed it outside of the gallery, rummaging inside for a change of clothes. The university library closed at 1:30 am and if he “borrowed” a car, he might just be able to make it there before Stiles.

He tore off his clothes and shoes, stuffing the expensive suit away like it was a worthless t-shirt and took off running.

With mid-terms going on, the library was still packed this late in the evening, mostly with harried undergrads, but there were a handful of procrastinating grad students who couldn’t afford to loiter at Starbucks as well. No one spared Scott a second glance when he slipped into the building. He found a quiet spot on the third floor to fish out his notes, and his gut twisted unhappily. He wasn’t only saying goodbye to Stiles. This was the last time he was going to be Scott McCall, aspiring researcher in veterinary science, who would give an arm and a leg to spend a semester in Kenya tending to wild lions. That Scott McCall liked loud action flicks and cheesy 90s boy bands. He was opinionated about vegans and refused to call his motorbike a crotch rocket. He’d fallen in love with his best friend and thought he was the luckiest person in the world because of that. Maybe he never really existed, but he was the Wolf’s favorite mask. He always felt the most real.

“Scott?”

Stiles looked like he’d ran the whole way. His hair was windswept and shirt untucked. He was breathing hard, and tried his best to hide it, leaning against the closest shelf. Stiles had more muscle than he liked to show; he just didn’t know how to use it. Right then, he looked like the biggest tool Scott had ever seen. He was Scott’s favorite thing.

“You uh… Dude, did you fall asleep again? You missed my texts. We really have to get you a new phone.” Stiles huffed. “Even one of those brick ones, just something with an actual working ringtone.”

“Stiles, wait.” Scott cut him off gently, but his boyfriend jerked like he’d been hit, jaw clamping shut. “I gotta tell you something.”

“Look, if it’s about what’s going on, you don’t have to worry about me, okay?” Stiles rambled, dropping into the seat beside him. Scott looked uncharacteristically serious and whatever he was going to say couldn’t be good. Maybe if he could just keep talking, he could delay it forever. “I’m not going to ask about what’s happening if you don’t want me to, but I’m always going to be here if you want to talk about things or if you need someone. I’m not going to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable. I’ve always got your back, Scotty, you know that-“

“Stop.” Scott reached across the space between them and put a hand on his best friend’s arm. “I can’t.”

“That’s okay then, you don’t have to do anything. I just worry about you and I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

“I can’t see you anymore.” The words stunned them both and Scott felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. The silence stretched out between them, awkward and painful as Stiles tried to pick up the shattered pieces of his life.

“Is it because of your Dad?”

It was as close to the truth as anything and Scott latched onto it like it was a lifeline when everything else was so senseless. “He’s right, this whole thing…I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s too much with school and everything else, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

Rage ignited within Stiles, burning away the numb shock. The bruises, the raw knuckles, the way Scott couldn’t even talk about the man. Scott’s father was hurting him, it was crystal clear now, and Stiles was going to make him pay in blood. “I can help, you just have to trust me.”

“I’m done, Stiles!” Scott raised his voice loudly enough that the other students glanced in their direction and he slid down further into his chair, utterly miserable. “I should have told you last night, I was just being sentimental.”

This was all another mistake. His ears were too hot and his hands were shaking, but it was the look on Stiles’s face that left him breathless. He felt winded, lungs constricting as it hurt to breathe. He would have done anything to make his best friend feel better, and that wasn’t fair. You couldn’t have a best friend who knew nothing about you.

“I have to go. I’m sorry, Stiles. You were…”  _Everything I wish I could have_. Scott plastered a smile on his face, grabbing everything he could off the table. He’d burn everything eventually. He couldn’t leave any traces behind, but not right now. Scott couldn’t do anything tonight. He just needed to get away.

He got as far as two aisles before Stiles caught up with him. He never heard Stiles coming. It would’ve made him jump out of his skin if he wasn’t so shaken. Stiles took him by the hand and pinning him against the life sciences, and when he spoke, his voice broke. “Scott, please.”

His hands balled into fists, but when Stiles touched Scott’s cheek he was achingly gentle. Scott’s backpack dropped to their feet. He could have used any excuse to pull away, but he didn’t want to.

“Just tell me. Please. I have to know. You’re the only one that’s ever made me feel like this. You’re the only reason I want to go home at the end of the day, and losing you, the thought of losing you scares me like nothing else. Forget about your Dad, or school, or anything. Nothing matters as much as you. Do you want this?”

The worlds spilled out of his mouth in a clumsy tumble. He couldn’t get them out fast enough, and right now, his life depending on it. Stiles had challenged the Wolf head on, yet it was losing his best friend that left his knees buckling.

“Do you want me?” He swallowed thickly, and Scott had to look away. A strangled, desperate whine caught in Stiles’ throat, but he couldn’t stop. “You never put yourself first, Scott. There’s always someone or something that gets top bill, but I’m not gonna let that happen now. Not with us. I thought we were happy… And if we weren’t, I don’t want it to be because of anyone other than you and me.”

The answer was clear, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. Stay on target, stay focused on the mission, be obedient and unquestioning. An emotionless killer in his Alpha’s image, the perfect heir, a monster. What he wanted never factored into the equation and until Stiles, he never realized what he was missing. This life might have started as a lie, but it was something more now, spun out of control and infecting every part of him. He had dreams, a home, a chance to be a normal person. For once, he was human.

Scott knew that he should fall back on his training, but in this moment, he broke and the only thing he could say was the truth. “Yes.”

Stiles looked at him with such raw, frightened hope that Scott gave an agonized laugh and cupped his best friend’s face. “I want you. I want this, all of it. I want to have our stupid movie nights and your terrible cooking and the way you drool on me while you’re asleep snoring in my face and your ugly ass table lamp with the hula dancer.”

“Then stay? We’ll figure it out somehow. If this is what you want, then don’t let go.” He brushed his lips over Scott’s, trying to steal the quiet gasps and half-moans. “It’s okay to want something for yourself.”

Freedom, a real life. He wanted to be Scott McCall. It was impossible to disobey the Alpha, but Scott was feeling impossible tonight. He yanked Stiles into a bruising kiss, stumbling backwards against the shelf and sending books tumbling down in an avalanche.

Rebellion was a greater thrill than anything the Wolf could give him and he laughed into Stiles’s mouth, reckless and giddy. Stiles left him trembling all the way down to his toes, and Scott never knew before this moment that one kiss could do him in. When his boyfriend pulled away, Scott let out a shamelessly needy whine, but Stiles’s hand was on his cheek, tracing along the soft skin beneath his eye.

“Say you’ll stay?” He said, worry still darting across his face. Scott would’ve done anything to make him happy. 

“I’ll stay.” He promised, and even as he said the words, he knew it would be for more than just another night. He was going to defy Peter for this. It clicked with an unquestionable certainty. Scott didn’t know how yet, or for how long, but he would protect this man with his life and hold on until he had no strength left to give. Stiles didn’t smile often, but when he did, he looked like he’d stolen some sucker’s wallet and wanted to share it with Scott. “I’ll stay. I promise.”

Stiles let out a breathy giggle, leaning in to brush their mouths together. He was hugging Scott too tightly, but no one thought that was a problem right now. “ _Good._  Because I really, really want to suck you off right now, if you’d like me to. Can I do that?”

Scott laughed. No one ever just asked. No one wanted to know what he wanted, and Stiles was always so proud of being the most selfish person in the room, but he wanted to hear what Scott wanted now. “No,” he said, and a flash of disappointment crossed Stiles’s face, but he didn’t stop smiling, just made to pull away. Scott wouldn’t let him. “Because I want you to cum down my throat.”

Stiles went beet red in 0.6 seconds.

The Wolf was a master of seduction, but Scott was awkward and overeager. It was different when it actually meant something and Scott grinned as he fumbled for the catch on Stiles’s khakis. This was his choice without agenda or motive. This was love in all its rash stupidity, and he was fearless with the feeling. Scott kissed the red from Stiles’s lips, slick and already parted to taste him like his boyfriend was just as eager. They shared a breath between them as Scott yanked Stiles’s pants off his hips.

When he sank down to his knees in the middle of the library stacks, Stiles gave a little groan. Scott shouldn’t be allowed to wear that wicked smile, it fit his face too well. While he was at it, Scott shouldn’t be allowed to wear anything, that would be an even better idea. His daydreaming was abruptly jerked back into the present as Scott nuzzled against his crotch and mouthed at his cock through his boxers.

“You sure you want to do this here?” Stiles whispered, half afraid Scott would say no, but his boyfriend snapped the band of his boxers to chide him.

“I  _want_  you.” Scott said the words like they meant something more than Stiles would ever understand. “I want you right here.”

“Well, the library is a pretty good place for learning new things and expanding your horizo-oh!” The rambling ended in a gasp as Scott slowly peeled Stiles’s boxers down past his thighs and licked a wet stripe along his cock.

Scott hummed to himself, smug with the power to make Stiles come apart so easily. He teased the head of Stiles’s cock against his lips and circled his tongue around the sensitive tip. Soulful brown eyes looked up and Scott made sure Stiles was watching as he slowly swallowed him.

There was something powerful about submission that so many people took for granted. Scott reveled in the control it gave him, nothing more satisfying than being able to control his partner’s pleasure, but when Stiles looked at him like that, like he couldn’t believe Scott was real, already breathless when they’d barely gotten started, Scott wanted to give him the world.

Stiles was heavy on his tongue, thick and fat and long. He split Scott open around him, already so wet, so hungry, but eager for more. Scott could feel him sliding down his mouth, cock kissing the back of his throat. It sent a shudder through him, left him moaning around his boyfriend’s dick, until Stiles let out a breathy little hiss and dug his fingers into Scott’s hair. It set Scott off all over again.

He gripped Stiles by the hip, turning his head back, giving Stiles permission to use him and Stiles went wild. Stiles tugged on Scott’s hair, burying his cock down his willing mouth, chasing the best sort of pleasure down his partner’s silken heat. Scott did his best to hold on, spit dribbling down his jaw. He was so achingly empty, clenching down on nothing as he thought of all the ways Stiles could fill him. He loved it coming in from both ends, Stiles buried in his cunt with Scott sucking his fingers like a sloppy whore.

Stiles got loud when he was worked up, his normally razor sharp tongue left uncoordinated and heavy as he struggled to string sounds into words, but Scott’s name always sounded like sin. He called out now, exhaling hard through his nose, and again, and again, voice climbing like he couldn’t help it, and Scott went cross-eyed trying to watch the way his mouth curved when he said his name. He felt Stiles tremble first, the way he always did when he was close, even with his face screwed up with concentration. Stiles wanted to make this last, but Scott wanted to choke on his cum.

“Scott, Scott,  _Scott!”_

“Excuse me, this is a library. Can you keep it down?”

Scott looked up, wide-eyed and stunned as the librarian on duty gasped in horror, but it didn’t matter because Stiles grabbed him by the face and shot off in his mouth.

He sputtered and coughed as the librarian shrieked, dropping an armload of books to wave her hands wildly. “What are you doing?! Get out of here, I’m going to call the police!” Scott barely had time to swallow, wiping the cum from his lips with the back of his hand as he grabbed onto Stiles and ran for it with the librarian hot on their heels and screaming for security.

Stiles tripped over the ends of his khakis, trying to hold his pants up with one hand as he cut through the stacks and stumbled down the stairs. They burst out into the cool night with a raucous howl, darting behind the side of the building as campus security went racing in the other direction. They tried to keep their voices down, but were laughing too hard breathe as they leaned against the rough brick building.

“Oh my  _god_!” Scott’s sides hurt and he had to wipe the tears from his face. “Holy shit.” They leaned against each other, Stiles gathering Scott into his arms to give him a messy, too-hard kiss as his pants slid back down to the ground. “You are the worst, I hate you so much!”

“I know.” Stiles crooned, swaying their bodies together. Now this was a private dance he could get behind. Or in front of. Or on his knees for. Scott looked beautiful with color bright in his cheeks, eyes flashing with excitement and a touch of mischief, totally disheveled from their escape. “That was awesome.”

“You’re still a jerk.”

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk.” Stiles let go long enough to finally pull his pants back on and zip everything back in place. They snuck through the campus, drawn to the lights of the 24/7 Taco Bell like moths to a flame and joined the crowd of other celebrating, inebriated students for a late night snack to drown out the stress of midterms. Scott tucked himself into a corner booth, letting Stiles win his affections with melted cheese and cheap hot sauce. There was no faster way to his heart. They piled in together, knees knocking and taking up too much of each other’s space as they stole bites from the other one’s tray. When Stiles held his burrito suggestively up to his mouth and wagged his eyes, Scott choked on his chalupa.

“Thank you.” He murmured when the adrenaline finally started to ebb, replaced with cheese filled relaxation. “You honestly don’t know-, it just means a lot, Stiles.”

“That’s because I’m the most awesome boyfriend in the world.”

Scott rolled his eyes on cue and elbowed his best friend in the side. “I’m serious, dude. I-I’m…there’s things I can’t talk about. Bad things. My Dad isn’t going to be happy and I’m…” His voice trailed away, bittersweet smile on his lips. “I’m afraid of him.”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you, Scott.” Stiles’s protective rage flared to life, already spoiling for a fight. “I’m never going to let him touch you again, you understand?”

“I’m not worried about him hurting  _me_.”

The silence crystalized between them, too close to the truth to admit. This was a minefield and any wrong step would set the whole world exploding beneath their feet. Finally Stiles spoke, twining greasy finger’s with Scott’s. “Come home with me tonight.”

“I shouldn’t.” Peter was already going to have a meltdown, there was being disobedient and then there was willfully flaunting Peter’s orders.

“Come home with me anyways?”

Scott sighed and leaned forward, licking a smear of hot sauce from the corner of Stiles’s mouth. There was no turning back. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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